


Sway

by epoh920



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M, Veronica Mars/Logan Echolls Smut-A-Thon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 19:30:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11259468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epoh920/pseuds/epoh920
Summary: A Sadie Hawkins dance AU.





	Sway

**Author's Note:**

> I don't write smut often. Feedback appreciated, but be gentle! ;)

“Dance with me?” Veronica grabs his hand, pulling him onto the dance floor. He can barely process, makes some glib comment about Dirty Dancing, and did he just mention having dreamed of this moment? God. He is such a sap. Because he had. He had dreamed of this moment. Veronica, in his arms again, his to hold, touch, kiss… love.

She puts her arms on his shoulders, clasping hands behind his neck, as if she’s afraid to allow her fingers to graze his skin. Before he knows it, they’re swaying to the music and his hands come up to grasp her waist.

She isn’t looking at him, but he can’t stop glancing at her, his eyes going from the floor to her lips, the ceiling, her hair, her nose. Finally, fucking finally, she looks him in the eye and there is no way he is going to break eye contact. It’s not like she doesn’t know how gone he is for her. He has always been an asshole to everyone, Veronica included, but she also knows his secret – he is desperate to love and be loved. She has been the target of his intense devotion from the second his anger for her burst into desire with that kiss on the balcony of the Camelot Motel. She has to know that he still feels that way, right? That all the bullshit he gave her last summer was about Aaron and his mom and Felix and Dick and fucking Neptune – never about her. He could never hate her when she is the only one who really sees him.

But Veronica has always been afraid of the vulnerability that comes with being loved. Because people who love her always leave. Lily, her mother – even Wallace left when things got rough, although he came back.

And God, that bullshit relationship with Duncan, which always seemed so stiff and proper. Could he ever forgive her for that? How could she have done that to him, make him watch as they paraded around the school, the idyllic “it” couple once again gracing Neptune High with their presence? Could he ever forget the sight of Veronica that morning at the Grand, after he knew, somehow, in his bones, that she’d finally slept with Duncan? (Consensually. I mean, God, what kind of sick message was she sending by ditching him for the guy who’d fucking raped her?)

He should hate her. But who was he fucking kidding? He would always forgive her, every time, even if she never asks it of him. Because she is Veronica. And she will always be it for him.

He can’t resist. His thumbs move the tiniest amount, caressing her sides. He tightens his grip, pulling her just a tiny bit closer. He can feel her thighs against his, their torsos pressed together. She dips her head, her nose almost brushing against his. He follows, bringing his head down until their foreheads touch.

_What the fuck is this song?!?_ Sometimes Logan thinks his whole life is just a big joke – like God’s getting a kick out of watching him being tortured. Just breathe, Logan.

“I never meant to hurt you, Veronica,” he sighs.

She just looks at him, eyes wide, like she’s trying to figure him out. “Logan…”

He’s never going to get over this girl. He’s going to spend his whole life comparing every woman he ever dates to this one, and they will never measure up, he just knows it. He takes another deep breath and finally looks away. He glances back at her and bites his lip. _Don’t cry, damnit. You’ll never be able to maintain the asshole façade if you cry at the fucking Sadie Hawkins dance while dancing with your ex-girlfriend._

He feels her hands move and he knows this is it. She’s about to let him go and he’ll never have the chance to touch her again. But instead, she grabs his neck, and she’s pulling him down and her lips are on his and he loses control. He pulls her closer, one hand moving to the small of her back, a couple of fingers against the top of her ass. His other hand moves up higher, and Veronica is now pressed against him so tightly, like he’s never going to let their bodies part, ever again. He sinks into the kiss, groaning when her lips part and their tongues meet. He hears somebody catcall and she pulls back. He slows down, gently chasing her lips, until they part and he realizes the song has ended and that epic kiss had taken place in the middle of a fucking school dance. They just look at each other for a moment, breathing hard. “I…” he starts, but then doesn’t know what to say.

She stares at him, eyes wide, lips parted. “Do you want to get out of here?” she whispers, and he’s flummoxed.

Somehow he manages to nod, and she takes charge, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the room.

She takes him to her car. “Should we both drive?” she asks, and he shakes his head, no. There’s no way he’s letting her out of his sight right now.

“I’ll come back for mine in the morning,” he answers, and climbs into her passenger seat.

She starts the car, and he just watches her as she drives away. They’re silent, and he’s afraid to speak, to break this spell. He sees her jaw tighten, as if she’s making a decision. She stops at a red light, looks over at him and smiles, shyly. He can see the green reflected on her face when the light changes and he can’t hold back a smirk. Her lip twitches upwards in answer, and her eyes go back to the road. When she parks he finally looks away from her. He lets out a small gasp when he realizes where they are.

“Veronica…”

“Come on,” she says. She gets out of the car, meets him at the passenger door, grabs his hand, and leads him through the doors of the Neptune Grand.

In the elevator, she squeezes his hand, lightly. He squeezes back, and they just gaze at each other. His thumb grazes the back of her hand and she takes a deep breath, and he can’t believe this is happening. She reaches up and pulls at the knot in her hair, letting it fall down to frame her face. He reaches out, wanting to run his fingers through it, but then drops his hand when the elevator dings and the doors open.

They make their way to his room and he drops her hand so he can get his key out of his wallet. As soon as the door shuts behind them, her hands are on his neck, pulling him down into another searing kiss. He spins her around, giddily, lifting her up like she’s a Disney princess and he’s fucking Prince Charming.

“Veronica.” He pulls back, bringing his hands to her face. “We have to talk about this,” he whispers.

“I know. We will, I promise. Tomorrow.” She kisses him again, hesitantly, and breathes, “I want you. I want this.”

This time he’s the one to begin the kiss, and when she grips his shoulders he lifts her up so she can wrap her legs around his waist.

His hands are firmly on her ass now, and he squeezes as she presses herself against him. He’s rock hard, and he can hardly walk but manages to stagger to his bedroom. He falls onto his back on the bed and she ends up landing on his stomach, which causes him to grunt.

She pulls back, “Sorry. Sorry.”

“S’okay,” he says, against her lips, and they’re kissing, again, like they need each other to breathe, like they’re never going to stop. He grabs her hips and slides them lower so she’s straddling him; he pushes down against her ass, hoping she gets the message. She does, and presses herself against him.  And God, it’s so good. He can’t believe this is happening.

His hands move up her back, under her shirt, caressing, kneading her bare skin. She shrugs her shoulders, giving a little shake, and pulls at the sleeves of her cardigan. He brings his hands around to her shoulders and pushes it down, tossing it across the room when it’s finally off. Now she’s just wearing a little top with these tiny straps, and he can’t help it, he just wants to taste her. He sits up, kissing across her shoulder to her throat, to _that_ spot on her neck, the one he’ll never forget, because when he sucks, hard, it makes her sigh and relax but also push her pelvis even harder against him, like he’s somehow made her mellow and tense at the same time.

His hands are on her back again, lifting her shirt, but not too high. He’s still holding back, he’s not sure what she wants but it can’t be everything, not after they’ve been apart for so long, and he doesn’t want to push her. But then she grabs the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up over his stomach.

“Off,” she demands, and he pulls away long enough for her to pull his shirts over his head. He untangles his arms and leans in to kiss her, but she leans away from him, which makes him pause. She smirks and slowly raises her arms above her head. It takes him a minute to realize what she wants, but then he smirks back and brings his hands back to her waist, and slowly begins to push her shirt up her stomach, caressing her sides with his thumbs, teasing. She huffs at him, and he gives in, pulling her shirt off. And holy fuck, her bra is pale pink and lacy, and he still can’t believe this is happening.

Her smirk falls away, and she’s just gazing at him. She looks down at his chest, tracing his scars with her eyes. Her hands gently caress his back, and then she’s looking at him again, and the emotion in her eyes is something Logan is afraid to name for fear of being wrong. She’s still looking at him, intensely. Her lips part, and she licks them as she reaches behind her to unclasp her bra. Logan grips her waist, caressing her with his thumbs again, as she slides it off her shoulders, and he’s so turned on he can hardly breathe.

“Veronica, you are so fucking beautiful.” He practically moans the words, and then they’re kissing again, and the feeling of her bare skin against his is exquisite. He kicks his shoes off and twists them around so she’s lying underneath him. He can feel her legs jerk, and then he hears the thud of her shoes hitting the floor. He kisses her chin, then across her collarbone, tracing his way down to her left breast with his tongue. He takes her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, sucking gently. She gasps, and he brings his hand up to her other breast, squeezing it and grazing her nipple with his thumb. He sucks harder, and she moans, arching her back. He kisses his way to the other side, shifting his hips so her legs  are astride his. As he takes her other nipple into his mouth, her legs wrap around him, and now it’s his turn to moan as she presses herself against him.

He releases her nipple and kisses his way down her stomach. He wants to kiss all of her, cover every inch of her skin with his kisses, as if he can make her body remember his devotion the next time her mind tries to talk her out of whatever this thing between them is.

“Logan,” she whispers, and he stops, resting his chin on her stomach, peering up at her. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“God, Veronica, I’ve missed you every day. Every damn day.”

“Don’t stop. I don’t want you to ever stop.”

He shudders, and then he’s kissing her again, sucking and biting his way across her torso. “Never. I’ll never stop. I’m yours, always.”

He feels her fingers on his chest, fumbling, and he pauses, wondering what she’s doing. She straightens her legs and lifts her hips, and he realizes she’s unbuttoned her jeans.

“Off,” she huffs, again. “Yours too.”

“Veronica, are you sure-“

“Yes. God, Logan, they’re tight and I can’t move, and it’s too hot, and I want to _feel_ you.”

He kneels between her legs and helps pull her jeans off. Her underwear are plain, cotton, and bright pink. He smirks at her as he runs his hands down her legs, pulling her socks off. He chuckles when he notices her toenails are painted the same bright pink.

“Shutup,” she huffs, and he grins at her, but sobers when he senses a hint of vulnerability behind her bravado.

“You’re gorgeous. I’m the luckiest man on the planet right now. I could just look at you all night.” He slides his hands back up her legs and leans down to kiss the inside of her left knee. “Well, maybe not _just_ look,” he grins up at her.

“Okay, Romeo, your turn.” She smirks at him as he pushes himself off the bed and removes his socks, then his jeans.

He climbs back on the bed, hovering over her, propped up on his elbows. He kisses her nose and smiles down at her. “What time do you have to be home?” he asks, thinking they’d better cool down soon, even though they’d both just stripped down to their underwear. Maybe he can just hold her for a little while before she needs to leave.

“2,” she smiles at him.

“Jesus! 2 AM?! Has your dad been body snatched?”

“Well, I was supposed to be working the dance; it’s the only reason I went. I didn’t dress up. I’m not dating anybody. I was supposed to go to some after party with Wallace and Jane. He’s not worried, I guess.”

Logan responds with an eye roll and a slight, “Hmph,” thinking of all the 11:00 curfews and the nights she wasn’t allowed to go out at all back when they were dating.

“Logan. I don’t want to talk about my dad,” she mutters. “I don’t want to talk at all, actually.”

He looks down at her, stoic and serious. “Veronica. We don’t have to do this. We can just cuddle on the couch and watch a movie. I can order room service. I don’t want to push-“

She cuts him off with a fierce kiss, pulling his head down to hers. Her other hand moves to his back, pushing him down as she arches, brushing her nipples against his chest. He groans and melts into the kiss, lost to the sensation of her lips on his, her body against his. He’s on fire, and every part of him wants her. She turns her head and he’s kissing her neck again, back at that spot.

“I want you so much, Logan. I want this. Please. I promise I’ll tell you if it’s too much or if I want you to stop.”

And something in him snaps. He thought he’d never get to kiss her again, never hold her, taste her, make love to her… And here she is, and she says she wants him, and he’s done trying to talk her out of it.

Her hands move all over him, in his hair, on his neck, his back, his ass, and her legs wrap around him again, squeezing. She presses her pelvis into his, and he knows what she wants, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to rush this. He kisses his way back down, stopping for a moment to give a teasing suck to her left nipple, and then his tongue is dipping into her belly button and then tracing a line over to her hipbone. His hands slip under her, squeeze her ass, and he kisses a path along the waistband of her underwear. He brings his hands around to her thighs and lifts her knees up. He groans when he sees the wet spot at her crotch. He dips his fingers under her waistband and begins to pull them down, pausing to look up at her.

Their eyes lock. She looks nervous. “I… I never… we never…”

With a start he realizes what she’s telling him. Of course Duncan never went down on her. Duncan’s a selfish tool.

“I’m yours. Whatever you want. If you want me to stop, just tell me.” He maintains eye contact with her, simultaneously using his chin to apply pressure to her clit, through her panties.  She gasps, and he smirks at her.  “But I don’t think you’re going to want me to stop.”

He shifts again, placing a kiss on her left knee and kisses a path up her inner thigh, slowly, so he can savor the taste of her skin. When he gets to the top, he slips his fingers under her panties in the back so he can grab her bare ass. His thumbs circle around to the front and slip under the fabric at her legs. His fingers squeeze her ass, and his thumbs caress her skin, but he doesn’t touch her _there_. Not yet. He moves his mouth over to her right thigh and kisses his way back down to her other knee.

She lets out a groan, and it’s passionate but also impatient. He slides her underwear down to her knees and she kicks them off the rest of the way.

“Finally,” she mutters, and he grins. But then he sobers. She’s there, before him, completely bare, so fucking beautiful, and he _still_ can’t believe this is happening.

He dives in. His tongue laves, his nose tickles, his fingers probe. She writhes and moans and gasps. Logan knows he’s good at this. He’s always liked it, and God knows he’s had lots of practice. But with Veronica, of course, it’s different. He wants to bring her pleasure, not because it makes him a good lover or because she’ll reciprocate later. But because anything that feels good for her feels good for him, too. Her happiness is his happiness, her desires are his, her pleasure, his. He wants to draw it out, but it’s too intense and he can’t bring himself to slow down. She moans his name and he knows she’s close. He surrounds her clit with his lips and caresses it with his tongue, and she comes undone. When she climaxes, it’s like he can feel it in his soul. His skin prickles, and as he brings her down, he realizes he’s got goosebumps.

Her body goes limp and he kisses his way back up her stomach, stopping to take each nipple into his mouth. This time when he licks that spot on her neck, she barely responds, just gives a tiny twitch.

He shifts so he’s lying next to her, propped up on his elbow. Her eyes are still closed, and it looks like she needs time to recover. But he can’t not touch her, so his hand comes around her waist. He leans down and kisses her chin, then caresses her nose with his.

Her eyes flutter open and he smiles. No smirk, no grin, just a stupid, dopey, love-sick smile. “Are you okay?” he asks, knowing the answer, but needing to say something.

“Mmmmm” she responds, and she stretches, like a cat, going tense all over then relaxing and leaning into him.

He just gazes at her, bringing his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and then caressing her face. “You’re amazing,” he whispers.

“ _That_ was amazing,” she whispers back. “How often are you willing to do that, because-“

Now his smirk is back, and it’s dirty and wicked and positively gleeful. _Take that, Duncan_ , he thinks. “Anytime you want, baby.”

Now it’s her turn to smirk. She wraps her arm around his shoulder and leans up to kiss him, pulling the rest of her body with her so that she’s laying atop him. Their kisses are slow, languid. Logan wonders if she can taste herself on his tongue, wonders if it bothers her. He runs his hands down her back, grabs her ass, her thighs, her hips, as if he’s trying to imprint his touch onto her skin. Their kisses grow in intensity, and his dick throbs with want for her.

She kisses her way down his chest to his waist. She smirks at him and pulls his boxers down. He kicks them off and smirks back. And then her mouth is on him and God, he thinks he’s going to burst.

“Veronica, wait.”

She sits up, frantic, and he realizes he might have hurt her feelings. He smiles at her and weaves his fingers through her hair, caressing her scalp.

“I- It feels too good. I don’t think I can hold back too much longer. If that’s what you want, I- I just want you to know, I-“ God, he’s an idiot. He doesn’t want to pressure her, but he can’t handle a blowjob right now if she wants more. “I mean, I’d love that, I mean _really_ love it, but if you-“

“Do you have a condom?” she interrupts, and he sputters.

He shouldn’t be surprised. Of course she can see right through him. “Nightstand,” he answers.

She climbs off him and walks over to the nightstand, rifling around in the drawer until she finds a foil packet. He marvels at everything he’s seen her be tonight, from hesitant to seductive to shy to nervous to confident and now, matter-of-fact. He wants to follow her everywhere, devote his life to her.

She climbs back on the bed, kneeling next to him. She opens the foil and grins at him as she slides the condom down his length. Almost before he knows what’s happening she’s straddling him and teasing him with her wetness, sliding his hardness against her clit. She grabs him and positions him at her entrance, pausing to look at him with a question in her eyes. He nods, she jerks her pelvis, and he’s inside her.

They both pause, just looking into each other’s eyes. Then she begins to move, and his mouth drops open. _God, I love you_ , he thinks. He knows he can’t say it, not yet, but it’s all he can think of in this moment, how much he loves her and how desperately he wants her to love him back.

He sits up, adjusting her pelvis slightly so she’s resting on his lap and her legs come up to wrap around his back. He kisses her, deeply, slowly, saying everything he can’t with words, conveying the depth of his feelings and his love. When he pulls back she gazes at him in wonder, lips parted, panting slightly. “You were too far away,” he whispers, and kisses her nose.

She wriggles against him, and he responds, thrusting up into her. They find a rhythm, moving slowly, eyes locked on each other. He takes her lower lip in between his teeth, caressing it with his tongue. They exchange a series of light, sensual kisses, wet little pecks in between gasps of surprise and excitement and pleasure. She has one hand on his shoulder, using it for leverage as she bucks against him. Her other is at the nape of his neck, playing with his hair, teasing and caressing and grabbing. He has one hand at the small of her back for his own leverage, and the other runs from her cheek to her hair to the back of her neck.

He can feel the pressure building and he knows this isn’t going to last too much longer. He brings his hand between them, sliding his thumb over her clit, rubbing gently. She gasps and speeds up. He follows her lead, thrusting harder and faster.

Their eyes are still locked on each other. “Logan,” she moans, and he knows she’s close. He speeds up again, and now their pace is frantic and their bodies are slapping against each other. It’s noisy and messy and so fucking hot.

She is breathing faster and faster now, and he can see tension in her forehead. He knows she’s on the edge. “Come for me, Veronica,” he implores, and presses his thumb against her clit, hard.

She closes her eyes and goes tense. He can feel her inner walls pulsing against him as she rides him through her climax. Both of his hands grab her ass and he thrusts against her hard and fast, giving her everything he’s got. She wraps her arms around his neck and arches her back, rubbing her breasts against his chest and he explodes. His eyes are shut and he’s seeing stars and he’s never had an orgasm this intense. It’s a good thing he can’t talk because otherwise he’d doubtless be saying any number of things about the intensity of his love for her that she surely isn’t ready to hear yet.

When he’s finally able to form a coherent thought, he opens his eyes. His head is bent down, forehead resting against hers, and she’s just looking at him. He looks back. They don’t break eye contact as their breathing gradually slows down. She smiles at him, tentatively, and he kisses her, hard and fast and deep, then again, soft and slow and shallow, and he smiles back at her when he pulls away.

Neither one of them speaks, as if afraid to break the spell, until she shifts slightly, and he slides out of her. He gives her a peck on the lips and lifts her off him. “I’ll be right back,” he promises.

He goes to the bathroom to clean up and when he returns she has tucked herself under the covers and is burrowing into his favorite pillow. He sets his alarm for 1:15 so they’ll have time to get her dressed and cleaned up before she drives home to her dad. He slides in next to her and she rolls over, resting her head against his chest and wrapping her arms around him. He caresses her back with one hand and uses the other to play with her hair. After a few minutes, he lets out a sigh of deep contentment.

She chuckles. “I thought you weren’t a cuddler.”

He squeezes her tightly against him. “I love cuddling. It’s just not the best part. It’s like the reward for and recovery from the best part.”

“It was a really good best part,” she whispers.

“It was the best. The best ever,” he whispers back.

She shifts so she’s looking up at him. “Logan?”

“Mmm.”

“I’m sorry. About last summer. About Duncan. About so many things.”

“I know. Thank you for saying it, though.”

“I want this, us… I mean, I want to try… Do you think…” she huffs, exasperatedly.

“Veronica. I just want you. I’m yours.”

“Okay… Okay.” She kisses him, lightly, then snuggles back down into his chest. “Don’t let me fall asleep.”

“I set an alarm. I’ll make sure to wake you up so you’re home on time. And we’ll talk tomorrow. We’ll figure this out.”

“Yes. Tomorrow,” she mumbles as she relaxes against him.

 

When he shows up at her door the next afternoon, Keith answers. He can tell by the look on his face that Veronica won’t have any more 2 AM curfews for the foreseeable future. But that’s okay. He’s finally on solid ground again, and he’s going to do everything it takes to make sure he doesn’t fuck up this miraculous second chance.

 


End file.
